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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26481865">The Floor Is Lava</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissfiction/pseuds/melissfiction'>melissfiction</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: Legend of Korra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>College AU, M/M, Modern AU, Zaofu State University, dance major!wei, dance major!wing, the drama with kuvira happened but basically it's just the equivalent of voting for someone awful, theater major!bolin, tiger mom suyin lol, twin angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:28:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,028</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26481865</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissfiction/pseuds/melissfiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU - Wei hated dance lessons with his mother, but after years of forced lessons, he realized that dance was the only thing he was good at. When Bolin starts taking Ballet Fundamentals I with Professor Mom Beifong, Wei discovers that being the worst at something isn't as bad as he thought it was.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bolin/Wei (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Floor Is Lava</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Zaofu State University - Suyin is the founder of the Beifong Arts College (yeah I'm not set in stone about that name just yet), basically the equivalent of a Cal State Uni? If you haven't guessed, yet, I'm from California . ZSU for short. A private college most known for their arts department. </p><p>University of Ba Sing Se - UBSS for short. Basically the equivalent of UCLA lol. </p><p>Northern Temple University - Yeah this is based off of the Northern Air Temple. </p><p>University of Republic City - Not mentioned in the fic, yet, but that's where Korra and Asami go. </p><p>across the floors - An exercise where students get into lines, and each row executes some kind of exercise after being counted off, in this case it's jazz walking until you get to the other side and there, you get into a line again. Students go row by row. Idk how else to describe it but it's very prominent in dance classes. I'm from marching band land so it's very prominent there, too. I think you just gotta look it up if you don't quite get the picture.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bolin was not good at dancing. </p><p>Wei knew that much just from watching him strain to reach his toes, where Wei could grab the arches of his feet as easily as he could breathe. He had seen Bolin dance before, too, and it was nothing worth writing in his diary about. Bolin only knew how to dance for pleasure, gyrating his hips to jaunty jazz with a pretty girl that knew nothing of what it was like to have calluses on her feet thicker than the Earth’s crust. </p><p>Wei had watched Bolin dance, eyes closed and teeth grinned and arms waving to some make-believe rhythm that was nowhere near the steady walking bass blaring over the radio, and he hated it. He <em> hated </em>the way Bolin moved without any care for grace and poise and so many fucking years of ballet lessons that he never wanted to sign up for in the first place and how he twirled Opal around like she was the belle of the ball and—</p><p>“Alright! Find a partner!” Professor Beifong announced. (Wei and Wing called her Professor Mom. Professionality be damned, it was no secret that the most important qualifier on their application to Zaofu State University was the Beifong surname.) “Floor stretch! Wei—demonstrate!” </p><p>As Wing lowered himself to demonstrate the stretch, Wei abandoned his side to part the crowd of freshman dance majors to find Bolin, the sole theater major in the class, hiding at the very back as if his broad figure could ever be hidden in a dance studio covered floor-to-ceiling with mirrors. Wordlessly, Wei grabbed him by the wrist, dragged him to the front of the studio, pushed his shoulders down as a cue for Bolin to sit himself down, and sat down with his pink ballet slippers flat against Bolin’s with his legs spread and his arms stretched out. Bolin quickly mirrored Wei, straightening his legs. Wei gave Bolin a sharp look, a brief frustration that Bolin wasn’t Wing and didn’t automatically read his mind. He leaned forward, interlaced his fingers with Bolin’s, and yanked Bolin forward. </p><p>“Ow, ow, ow!” Bolin cried. He pulled himself backwards. “Calm down, there, I’m not <em> that </em>flexible.”</p><p>The rest of the class paired themselves off and mimicked the stretch. Wing was left with some freshman boy who didn’t know anyone in the class. </p><p>Wei suddenly let go of Bolin, which startled him into falling backwards. “Ew, why are you so sweaty?” Wei wiped his hands off on his black tights. </p><p>Bolin sat himself back up. “I’m nervous! Everyone looks like they know exactly what they’re doing. I don’t even know what a ‘fondue’ is! Plus, I didn’t know we were allowed to wear tights with our leotard!” He nervously shielded his crotch area with his arms. </p><p>Wei didn’t <em> mean </em>to stare down at that area. “Really?” It was Bolin’s fault for attracting so much attention to it. He grabbed Bolin’s hands again and tried to focus on the sparkle of humility in Bolin’s green eyes. He always did like humility in a man. “I thought you were trying to show off your movie star body.” He hoped Bolin didn’t notice his eyes darting in between his chiseled jawline and his toned, muscly thighs. </p><p>“Stars are people, too.” </p><p>“Pull harder.” </p><p>Bolin gently pulled Wei far past what Bolin himself was capable of reaching. </p><p>“Harder.” </p><p>Bolin pulled until he was sitting straight up. </p><p>“Harder!” </p><p>Bolin kept pulling, slowly, waiting for resistance or a sudden “Stop!”, and kept pulling until Wei’s chest was flat on the floor. “Oh, come on! I think <em> you’re </em>the one who’s flexing, now.” </p><p>Wei smirked, though Bolin couldn’t see it. “Maybe I am.” He sat himself back up, then it was Bolin’s turn again to be pulled forward. “Someone has to put you in your place.” </p><p>“What do you <em> mean?</em>” Bolin begged. “I’m already in my place. I’m in my place so <em> hard </em>right now. I cannot possibly be more placed than I am right now. I already know I’m the worst dancer here!” </p><p>Bolin’s shame was music to Wei’s ears, a sweet melody tweeting from a morning songbird's beak that celebrated the rays of the warm sun melting away the cold air. Professor Beifong would have shooed such negative self-talk away and said something about the inner potential everyone has that just needs to be unlocked by the right key. Wei never bought into that. If it were true, he would have had the confidence to apply to University of Ba Sing Se as a biology major. He would have scored higher on his SATs. He would have quit ballet lessons a long time ago. But, maybe, his mother was right and everything did happen for a reason. It was nice knowing that all of his failures had led up to this moment, where Wei could torture a hotshot movie star over simple Ballet Fundamentals I stretches. </p><p>“Good,” Wei said. “I hope you know that no matter how hard you try, you will never, <em> ever, </em> catch up to me. You’re just a pretty boy whose good looks happened to catch the eye of some sleazy producer. You don’t know <em> anything </em> about what it’s like to sacrifice your body for your art.” </p><p>Bolin tensed up. He could see his life flashing before his eyes. He wondered where it all went wrong—maybe it was when he stole a loaf of bread for the first time while he and Mako were living on the streets. He could still remember the cold, aching hunger and the rancid smell of the dumpsters he used to search for dinner in. He faked a smile. He wanted to stay positive, even if it killed him. “You… You think I’m pretty?” </p><p>“You really are an idiot,” Wei deadpanned. He was convinced there was something fundamentally <em> wrong </em> with Bolin, something that went wrong in his childhood that made him endure every insult with a smile because he was as thirsty as a dehydrated man in a desert for even a drop of validation. Sure, that optimism was endearing now, but in the heat of an argument, you <em> want </em> to hurt the other person. Then, at least that meant the other person was finally listening. Bolin had some thick, slimy membrane coating him that filtered out any reason to be angry at someone else. He seemed to always be looking for the best in people, even at the cost of being hurt. “No wonder Opal broke up with you.”</p><p>When Wei looked at Bolin again, Bolin was already on the verge of tears. Wei panicked. If his mother found out that he made Bolin cry, she would make him <em> meditate </em>. He hated being forced to meditate more than he hated Bolin’s stupid, pretty face. Why couldn’t his mother be normal and just yell at him? </p><p>“Calm down, calm down!” Wei said. “You’re too tense. Just breathe and lean in gradually.” He tried to not imagine how firm Bolin’s muscles actually felt like. He was definitely not imagining his hands leaning forward just for a small squeeze of those strong, capable thighs that could probably break a watermelon open. </p><p>“’m sorry,” Bolin mumbled. He looked up at Wei with his shiny green eyes, still wet with tears he couldn’t hold back. He sniffled and wiped his eyes. He had a way of looking small, despite his broad shoulders. It was all because of his awful posture, always hunched down like he was ashamed. Wei liked that, but it was still bad for his back. “I just really, really, <em> really </em>miss her!” </p><p>Wei sighed. He wished his sister had broken up with Bolin before Bolin had already decided on going to Zaofu State for the next four years. He heard that Bolin had been accepted into the University of Ba Sing Se, but turned it down to be closer to Opal. At least she had done the honorable thing and transferred to Northern Temple University. “That’s because you keep thinking of her. You think of her so much, that even when you try not to think of her, you end up thinking of her again.” Wei pulled Bolin forward. </p><p>Bolin steadied his breathing, relaxed his muscles, and leaned in. “Well, how do I stop?” </p><p>Wei noticed Bolin subconsciously holding his hands a little tighter. He let himself daydream, briefly, and tried to memorize the sensation of Bolin’s rough hands clasping his. </p><p>“Have you tried thinking of someone else?” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Bolin was not good at dancing, but he wasn’t bad either. </p><p>Despite his heavyset figure, he knew how to move lightly, with pointed toes leading every sweeping step forward. Wei was relieved. If he had to spend an entire semester with a clamoring elephant leaving dents in the hardwood floor, he would probably end up sneaking into Bolin’s dorm to smother him in his sleep. Bolin had some sensibility in him, thank God, and he bore the brunt of Professor Beifong’s endless critiques with an open mind. He was still the worst in the class, of course, but he was quick on his feet and adjusted to comments quickly. </p><p>Wei supposed he could tolerate Bolin. Watching him made across-the-floors a little more tolerable. But only a little. His mother’s voice announcing across-the-floors was still echoing in his ears, even louder than his tinnitus, and he knew it would echo into his nightmares, as well. </p><p>It felt like deja vu. He had a nightmare, last night, about this exact same scenario. Except it was just him and Wing and his mother, counting them off: <em> 5, 6, 7, 8, </em> and Wing was perfectly executing the exercise with perfect technique while Wei was frozen. Rocks were twisting up over his feet, holding him steady, and Professor Mom was telling him to go, already, and that nothing was holding him back. She kept asking him what was wrong and she was blind to the earth creeping up his limbs and swallowing him whole. The fluorescent lights were flickering and she kept insisting that <em> he </em> was the only one holding himself back, <em> he </em> was the only one who could choose to make that first step, <em> he </em>was responsible for his own happiness… </p><p>“<em>5, 6, 7, 8! </em>” </p><p>Wei snapped back to reality. He closed his eyes. Although he was half a count late, he quickly recovered and executed the exercise with all the grace expected of someone forced to do ballet since childhood. It was just a jazz walk. He kept his hands on his hips and did the best jazz walk he could for his mother and didn’t open his eyes until big, warm hands stopped him from jazz walking right into the line of students in front of him. </p><p>“Woah there,” Bolin said. His posture was bad, again. He was hunched down to meet Wei’s line of sight. “You good?” </p><p>“Good?” Wei scoffed. He brushed Bolin’s hands off of him. “I’m the best!” </p><p>Professor Beifong clapped. “Yes, my dear Wei!” She switched to her loud, projecting professor voice, even though they were only in a dance studio of twenty students and everyone could hear her just fine. “We are <em> all </em>the best at being ourselves! So let us be the best versions of ourselves!” </p><p>If there was such a thing as toxic positivity, Wei’s mother was it. He wondered how different his life would be if he had just allowed himself to be the worst. He could have majored in biology at some community college in Ba Sing Se and worked his way up to transfer to the university. He envied Bolin. Bolin surely didn’t wake up in a cold sweat from night terrors only for his twin brother to throw a pillow at him to shut up. No, Bolin probably cried himself to sleep over his breakup with Opal. Wei wished he could shift his obsession to something as trivial as a romantic relationship. </p><p>Wei continued watching Bolin throughout the class because, then, he didn’t have to focus on his mother’s motivational sayings. Or his own twin brother, fulfilling their mother’s expectations without a second thought. But especially because when he looked at Bolin, it was easier to not focus on his own reflection. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I finished LOK recently and I just looooove Bolin. He's so pure and wholesome! Not a lot of fics exist for this couple so I will try to write a lot of fics to fill the void in my heart. Don't forget to SMASH that Kudos button and comment below to tell me what you liked! Also, guess what the other characters are majoring in!  </p><p>Idk where this fanfic is going exactly but I'm mostly just trying to write fanfics for bigger fandoms so my writing can get more exposure. Like I love writing and I would do it for free every day but also it's depressing as hell thinking that nobody cares about the hours I spend writing :( But I guess that's what I get for majoring in science instead of writing?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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